The Wild Witch
by MaisieWilliamsFangirl
Summary: A fairytale from the North, told to young children from Bear Island to Winterfell on cold winter's nights when the snow flurries and the hearts freeze.


**The Wild Witch**

Once there lived a wildling woman.

She was a warg and a witch, and her blood sang with the call of the wild things.

The witch was beautiful, her hair was thick and tangled, black as pitch, and her eyes were each of a different shade- one as pale as the moonlight on the snow, and the other as brown as the bark of the sparse sentinel pines which bordered her small village.

The woman was wild, even the wildlings called her so. It was said that her mother had been a child of the forest. She could run on bare feet through the winter snows for days without shivering, she knew the tongue of the weirwoods and she could look into a direwolf's eye and tell his story.

The witch was both feared and loved with more passion than any other, she had command over all the wild things and her tribe of wildling folk followed her and won battle against every other clan north of the wall.

But one day the fierce and wild witch took ill, she lay down beneath a heart tree and soon the snow buried her so that none of her wildling folk could see where their witch had gone.

The woman lay as still as death, and for the first time she felt the cold prickle her pale skin and she shed tears that burnt like fire embers.

The witch screamed out to her wildling people, she howled for her wolves and shrieked for her birds.

The animals could not come near the witch though, and so her most powerful bird flew high up into the night sky and swallowed a star. Then he dreamt through the eyes of the old gods and came back to the ground.

"Witch, witch," the powerful bird cried, and he stepped up to where his mistress lay, though the other creatures could not approach.

The eagle let a drop of starlight fall from his beak and it melted away the snow which covered the wild woman.

"Witch, you are dying of love, for love is the only wild passion which you have never felt."

The wild witch raged and struck her powerful bird away, for she was the most powerful of all the beasts and the wildest of all that have ever lived.

"Love is a fool's weapon!" The witch screamed, and the powerful bird was pushed back to join the circle of her animals.

The wild woman lay back in the snow, and this time its icy fingers dug deeper and the witch began to shiver uncontrollably.

Her boiling tears froze hard on her cheeks and the witch felt her wild power slowly seep away.

The other creatures of the wild north left, slunk back into the shadows of the sentinel pines and returned to their wild chaos without their wild mistress.

Soon only the loyal direwolf was left, he looked up into the black night sky and two stars fell from the heavens.

The wolf caught them his mouth and swallowed the stars, and then he dreamt through the eyes of the old gods.

The direwolf approached the witch, who was once again buried by snow now deeper than before.

He let two drop of starlight fall from his snout and the ice melted away once more.

"Witch, witch," the direwolf growled, and witch raised her head and looked up into his golden eyes.

"Witch, you are dying of a frozen heart, it is hidden behind walls of ice for it has never felt warmth."

The wild witch raged and struck her loyal wolf away, for she was the most powerful of all the beasts and the wildest of all that have ever lived.

"My heart is not wild and powerful enough to strike me down!" The witch screamed, and the loyal direwolf lowered his big head and sadly turned away, leaving the witch and joining his wild kin in the forests of the children.

Then the woman lay back, she could not move again after that, for her whole body had frozen shut, the tears could not fall from her eyes- one as pale as the moonlight on the snow, and the other as brown as the bark of the sparse sentinel pines which bordered her small village.

But the witch had forgotten her village, forgotten her wildling people who she had led to so many a victory, forgotten her powerful bird and her loyal direwolf, she forgot the wildness and the power, and she forgot her warg magic and she forgot the great weirwood which stood above her.

The witch's eyes were frozen over, wide open but seeing nothing and the snows fell thick and fast, burying the wild witch deeper than the dragon's dwell.

After many moons a man came to the weirwood, he dressed all in black and had eyes like shining sapphires.

The man collapsed on his knees before the heart tree, he was weak and close to death's door, the flurry of snow hd blinded him and his legs were stiff and blue.

Though he had called himself a northerner the man saw now that the land beyond the wall was far too wild for him.

The man looked up at the night sky and begged for a quick passing.

Then three stars dropped down from the heavens and the man gasped as they fell upon him.

One dropped into his eyes and he could see fresh again, the other dropped into his mouth and he dreamt through the eyes of the old gods.

The third dropped down at his knees, and it melted away the snows, down and down to where the wild woman laid frozen solid.

The man looked at her in surprise and thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

As the man all in black knelt and kissed the witch, a single drop of starlight fell from his lips.

The drop travelled down into the wild witch's heart, and it melted away the thick walls of ice which trapped it.

She opened her eyes- one as pale as the moonlight on the snow, and the other as brown as the bark of the sparse sentinel pines which bordered her small village, and the woman remembered, and her body was filled with warmth for the first time and she kissed the crow man back.

And the witch now knew the most wild and powerful magic of all.

Love.


End file.
